


Thoughts of a Lost Goodbye

by peterpannerisms (prouvairecateur)



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 07:22:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3479384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prouvairecateur/pseuds/peterpannerisms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Which stop have we reached, ma’am?”</p><p>“Jackson.”</p><p>The young marine repeated the word under his breath. He frowned at the seat across from him before he whispered, “Snaf,” under his breath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thoughts of a Lost Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All events and characters in this story are based off of the depiction from the HBO show, and I in no way mean any disrespect to the real people and events.

Eugene couldn’t remember when exactly he fell asleep on the train ride home, but it had been some time after a comforting silence had fallen between him and the man sitting across from him. After they had said their goodbyes to Burgin and the train pulled once more out of its station, the pair had been content on saying nothing to each other for a while. Perhaps they had both just been too tired to say much – after all, it had been a long several months to the end of a long several years. 

“Sir,” a female voice called to him, pulling him from his sleep-induced haze. He rubbed a hand across his face with a rough jerk and shuffled himself back into an upright position against the stiff train seat. He covered the yawn that threatened to escape with his hand as he looked to the woman who had addressed him. “Sir, we have reached our next stop, if this is where you need to get off.”

His left eye still adjusting to the light that came pouring in from the window next to him, he used his right eye to cast a quick glance around the cabin. For a brief moment, he had not even thought twice about the vacancy of the seat across from him. The other man had never been one for sitting in the same place too long, he had most likely gotten up to walk around the locomotive while Eugene relaxed.

“Where are we?” His voice came out in an uncharacteristically rough grunt, still hoarse from his nap, and in his fatigue he had momentarily let his manners fall by the wayside. 

The woman took no offense by his abrupt curiosity, as he had still been more polite than some of the other passengers had no doubt been. Being away from the expectations and regulations of everyday societal living could make even the most well-mannered man forget how to properly address a lady, if only for a brief time.

Eugene shook the last hint of sleep from his body and sat up straight, giving the woman an apologetic smile. He cleared his throat before correcting his previous statement. “Which stop have we reached, ma’am?”

“Jackson.”

The young marine repeated the word under his breath. They must have reached Louisiana late last night, and now he was in Mississippi, that much closer to being back home in Mobile. He frowned at the seat across from him before he whispered, “Snaf,” under his breath. 

“What was that, sir? I didn’t quite hear you?”

Eugene turned his head to face the woman, with a curious glance, before shaking his head with a sigh. “Nothing, ma’am. I was just-” He cut himself off and motioned a hand half-heartedly towards the seat that had only yesterday been occupied by the mouthy cajun man. “Thank you for waking me, but I won’t be getting off ‘til Montgomery.”

The attendant nodded in understanding and wished him well, making sure to thank him for his service, before leaving him to himself. 

It had been years since he had felt so alone – never had he truly been on his own in such a manner since he enlisted. Already, he feels an uncomfortable sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

When the train began to move once more, Sledge turned his entire body toward the window on his right, his mouth quirking slightly at the corner while he watched the men at the platform embracing friends and family they had all gone so long without seeing.

As the people back at the station slowly faded until they were nothing more than small specks against a vast background of hills and trees, Sledge’s thoughts returned to his friend. He had been left with so many questions.

When he departed the train in Louisiana, had someone been waiting for him, with a smiling face and open arms? Was he returning to a warm home? To a welcome worthy enough for a man who had been through such hell? What was the young man, worn and weathered from years of fighting, returning home to?

After pondering over these questions for some time, he resigned himself to believe he would truly never learn the answers to all of his questions. All he could do was hope that his companion had found some comfort in being home.

Even deeper in his mind though, sat the growing fear: would he ever see Merriell Shelton again?

One last question he did not have an answer for. Out of all the questions he was left with by the man’s departure, this was the one that Eugene dwelled on the most. 

Part of him felt guilty that he had not woken in time to properly say goodbye to his friend. This weighed heavily upon him as his eyes gazed over the land that quickly moved across his line of sight.

More than anything, he wondered what would have happened if he had been awake to say his farewells. What would they have said to each other? Would they have said anything at all? Would he have just watched in silence as the man walked away from him, unsure of when next they would see each other?

No. Eugene was not sure what he would have said, but he knew he would have said something. He also had no doubt in his mind that Shelton would have had something to say. For as long as Eugene had known him, he always had something to say. Always speaking his thoughts aloud, whether they were warranted or not. Yes, Snafu would have had something to say to Sledgehammer; Eugene was certain of this.

Then why hadn’t he done so? In an instant, the guilt Eugene had felt before had all but disappeared, being replaced with anger and discomfort. 

All those nights they spent in foxholes, trying their damndest to get as much rest as they could given the conditions they were under, Shelton had never hesitated to wake him when he wanted to say something. He had often bent low toward the other man, so as not to be overheard by anyone else, and would sharply whisper, “Sledgehammer,” in the sleeping man’s ear. And Eugene would always wake instantly, perhaps shoot the man a frustrated glance and a muttered, “The hell do you need?” Regardless, he would listen to whatever the man needed to tell him. Most of the time, it was nothing that could not have waited until the morning, yet he would always wake the other man the moment the thought occurred to him.

“You ever gambled, Sledge?” Snafu had asked one night on Peleliu. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know like poker? Card games?”

Sledge turned over from where he had been lying down in his foxhole to look at the other man. “Do I really look like the gambling type to you, Snaf?” The man in question just shrugged one of his shoulders, his eyes lazily watched every movement Eugene made, never focusing in one spot for too long. “I know a few games, but I never played with money if that’s what you’re asking.”

Snafu made a sound of acknowledgement akin to a grunt before he pulled his gaze away from Sledge, looking out across the hill, still letting his eyes adjust to the night and the dim starlight above them. It was the first night in at least a week that the sky had been clear enough to see the stars. As both men peered up at them, they were separately remembering their lives back home. Even though they were the same stars every night, that night they looked different. Brighter.

“Bet you’d be real good at it.”

“At gambling?” Sledge did not need to look at the other man to know he was nodding in response to his question. “Thought gambling was all about luck.”

Snafu snorted and muttered, “Sometimes.” He moved a bit, sinking further down into the ground at the bottom of the hole so he was closer to where Eugene had been sleeping only moments ago. “Sometimes you gotta be good at bluffing. And you have to be able to tell when someone else is bluffing too.” Snafu was watching his companion once more, eyes moving slowly over the man as he thought to himself. “You would be good at that sort of stuff.”

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never really played.”

Snafu nudged the other man with his shoulder slightly. “I tell you what, when all of this is over, I’ll teach you how to gamble. See if I was right about that bluffing thing.”

“Sure, Snaf,” Sledge nodded before he turned over once more to settle back in for the night.

“I mean it, Sledgehammer.”

“I know.” 

He had not woken Sledge that night on the train though. Shelton had left without a single word, a single touch that would have pulled the man out of his slumber. Though Eugene had not expected any tearful, emotional farewell, he had surely been counting on some final conversation between the pair of them. He now realized, more than anything, he wished Snafu had woken him one last time- to tell him the things that could not have waited until the morning. Not this time. 

Something hit Eugene in that moment, hit him harder than any unexpected explosion he had ever encountered during his time in combat. Snafu would have only woken him if there was something he felt he needed to say. Perhaps, leaving Sledge to sleep was his way of letting him know that there was nothing left he needed to say before they parted ways. 

It made very little sense to Eugene at the time, and it frustrated him to no end that he had been left with so many questions left unanswered. But that was always the way it was between the two of them – so much to say, yet so many things left unsaid.

The young man willed himself to think of something else for the duration of his trip back to Alabama, and all too soon, the thoughts of a lost goodbye was traded for thoughts of home.

~.~.~.~.~

He was sitting in the passenger’s seat of Sidney’s car, pipe hanging lazily from the side of his mouth. Once more, his mind wandered to that night on the train, and of the man who had slipped away in silence, leaving Eugene on his own. This time though, he was reminded of another time someone had neglected to say goodbye to him before leaving, and he could not help but voice his curiosity. 

“Hey, Sid?” he asked, turning to glance at his best friend who had been silently focused on the road, the hint of a smile still clear as day on his face after having announced his engagement. 

“Yeah, kid?”

“Why did you leave without saying goodbye?”

The final remnants of the smile had faded from the driver’s face, and he took his eyes off the road for a single moment to glance at the man sitting next to him. “What the hell are you talking about, Gene? Sure I did. Look, I may not remember much about that last week in Mobile, but I remember that.”

“No.” Eugene shook his head and reached up to pull the pipe from his mouth, letting it fall to his lap where he turned it around over and over in his hands. “Not then. I mean, back on Pavuvu. Before you came back home.” He noticed his friend’s frown creasing his forehead as he watched the road, all the while listening to what the younger man was saying. “I went to look for you that day, but you had already left. Why didn’t you say anything?”

There was silence hanging in the air between them as Sidney pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, deep in thought. 

As the car continued down the road, Eugene watched as the landscape became more and more familiar. He was almost back home. The thought made his heart race and skip a beat, though from nerves or relief he could not be sure. It was then, when Sidney sighed and Eugene caught the shrug of the man’s shoulders from the corner of his eye, that he realized his question had yet to be answered. 

“Hell, I don’t know, Eugene. Didn’t know a lot about what was happening back then, to tell you the truth.” The smiled returned to his face as he turned to look at his friend once more. “Guess I didn’t say anything because I knew I was going to be seeing you again. I had no doubt about that.” He adjusted his left hand on the steering wheel, so he could reach over and grasp Eugene’s shoulder with his right. “And I was right, wasn’t I? Like I keep telling you, I’m smarter than I look.”

The two looked at each other for a second before laughing. Though Sidney’s answer had settled the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, it still left him with a single aching curiosity. Had that also been Snafu’s reasoning for not saying goodbye to Eugene that night? 

“I hope so.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think here or on tumblr (peterpannerisms) where you can also send me prompts! Also thanks to vat-69 and raspberrie for beta reading this!  
> Renee


End file.
